


Rude Awakening

by AuroraDefae



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraDefae/pseuds/AuroraDefae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The series we've seen-Study in Pink through the Reichenbach Fall- was just a comatose dream of Sherlock's as he recovers from an overdosing. Doctor John Watson read detective stories to him.</p><p>Now he awakens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> http://sherlock-william-holmes.tumblr.com/post/54689109288/221b-bag-end-kmcdougle02-kriskenshin
> 
> Based on this post.

He awoke screaming. Blood was pounding through his head. Splotches of color obscured his vision as he fought for clarity through the chaos erupting around him. Beeping. Shouts. Hands trying to shove him down. He screamed through his pain. The in-the-mouth aftermath of the jump in his dream.

 

Voices everywhere. The too-ordinary noise of impatience.

 

More spots flashed in front of his eyes as his head swam. Struggling out of some of the grasps, he threw his head back and yelled. Yelled his pain. Yelled the sheer agony coursing his veins. He blindly batted away the hand reaching toward him with what could only be tranquilizing fluid.

 

Through his screaming, he felt himself crying. Crying for an end to this chaos and confusion and pain and sheer agony.

 

Now one of the people was repeatedly saying something. Shouting it. Over and over. Over the chaos.

 

Sneaker thudded away and one of the shouting voices died down as the people around him tried to shove him onto his back.

 

Then a voice called over the chaos. Silence fell and they stepped away to make room for the voice.

 

"It's okay, Mr. Holmes." The voice spoke quitetly.

 

It was deep. Scratchy. Familiar. Soothing.

 

Sherlock stretched out his hand, not caring that it shook. Not caring that he was weak.

 

The hand that took his held tightly as it drew closer to him, slackening when it had reached him and stopped. Through the chaos fogging his mind and his perception, Sherlock saw a short man with a cane.

 

"Get me some water-" the man directed to someone on the other side of the bed, "can you tell me how you are?" He directed in soft tones to Sherlock.

 

"Promise me you won't leave me. Please, don't leave me. Please-"

 

"Mr-Sherlock, I promise I won't. How are you?" The grip tightened for a few seconds before letting go to grab something from some one in the corner of his vision.

 

"It's okay, Sherlock, no ones leaving you. Try to drink this."

 

And a cool plastic cup was held to his lips.

 

With trembling hands, he took it, not caring that half of it spilled down his front.

 

The result was instantaneous.

 

Sherlock felt his mind slow down as if the cold water has seeped through it. The spot also faded as he blinked, the man coming into crystal view with a concerned look.

 

A look Sherlock was not accustomed to.

 

"My head-" he choked out.

 

The man's eyes flicked up towards Sherlock's forehead.

 

"Excuse me, Dr. Watson, Mr. Holmes-Mycroft-is coming immediately. I tried to tell him-"

 

The man, Dr. Watson nodded as the words sunk into Sherlock.

 

"No-no, no-"

 

"Sherlock, it's okay. It'll be fine. Are you ready to see him?"

  
Sherlock struggled to gain control, bringing his eyes to the doctor's, choking out a no. The last thing he needed was his brother's disapproval.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter I never thought would be written. please give me feedback!

Mycroft's eyes were concerned, disapproving, and exasperated at the same time as he looked down at Sherlock.

****

Even though Sherlock was glaring up at his brother, he saw Dr. Watson twitch, and Mycroft's eyes latched onto him.

****

"How is he?"

****

The doctor glanced at Sherlock, licking his lips nervously before looking back at the older Holmes.

****

"His bodily functions are preforming normally, and I don't know at this point if he'll have any emotional or mental damage from being comatose for seven months-"

****

_Seven months?_

_**** _

"Seven months?" Sherlock knew he was shouting, but didn't care how loud he was.

****

"-although his cerebral activity spiked to a healthy rate when we read books to him. The damage will be eased by that."

****

"When will he be able to be released?"

****

"I can not be absolutely certain until he undergoes tests of his motor function's capabilities. I would guess two months, but that could be added to or taken from based on how well his body has maintained itself."

****

"Thank you, Dr. Watson. Keep me updated on any developments."

****

_Keep me updated on any developments. As if Sherlock was a specimen undergoing tests._

_**** _

Sherlock took a shaky breath before asking the ceiling, "Seven months?"

****

"Yes, um. You overdosed on a drug, actually more than one, and knocked yourself out. From experience with one of my...friends-"

****

"Why don't you say fellow soldier?"

****

"How did you know?"

****

Sherlock ignored the question, asking, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" He hoped both of those were recent enough that he wouldn't be nodded at with that look of sympathy.

****

"How-how.....?"

****

"When you were talking to my brother, you said 'we,' implying you had been there. Now, you said I have been out for seven months. Where did you get that tan then? Also, you have the posture of a soldier, and keep your hair short, shorter than is hygenically acceptable for hospital work."

****

The Doctor gave him an incredulous look, eventually choking past his mouthing of how to say, "Well. Seems we don't need to worry about mental damage."

****

And he spun on his heel and walked out as quickly as his limp let him.


End file.
